


Squeak Squeak

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bubble Bath, Fluff, Humor, Hybrids, M/M, Owner/Pet, Ownership, Pets, kitty!kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have a surprise for you,” Blaine promises, and Kurt’s ears twitch in response, focused on what the word surprise entails more than the strange quality to Blaine’s voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squeak Squeak

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this comic](http://blaineandersenpai.tumblr.com/post/41841183922/more-for-sara).

Kurt is a little unsure of the blindfold, shrinking away when Blaine approaches him with it—but he trusts Blaine, and eventually lets the soft fabric be tied around his eyes (when his back is pressed to the wall and he literally can’t move away from Blaine anymore).

“I have a surprise for you,” Blaine promises, and Kurt’s ears twitch in response, focused on what the word  _surprise_  entails more than the strange quality to Blaine’s voice.

“A surprise?” Kurt asks, interested, feeling Blaine’s hands close over his shoulders. His tail flicks back and forth, brushing against the bare skin of Blaine’s arm. Blaine makes an affirmative noise in his throat, but doesn’t say anything else, beginning to navigate Kurt forwards. Kurt doesn’t particularly like this  _not seeing_  thing, but he can hear the way their feet scuff and shift on the floor and it’s a little reassuring. He knows the apartment, how to move through it, and he trusts his ears. Almost as much as he trusts Blaine.

“What is it?” Kurt asks, as Blaine turns him abruptly. “What’s my surprise?” His voice pitches higher, excited, even though he knows Blaine probably won’t tell him.

“We’re almost there…” Blaine says, deflecting, and Kurt’s tail swishes again, this time with more excitement.

“I’m so excited.” Kurt wonders what it is. Maybe it’s a new toy. Or that soft blanket he saw when they were out that he liked so much. Or maybe Blaine moved the bed so that Kurt’s favorite sunspot wasn’t on the floor anymore.

“Really?” Blaine asks, laughing awkwardly, and Kurt’s ears furrow a bit at the noise. “I’m so glad.” He sounds  _nervous_ , and Kurt can practically smell the anxiety coming off him. Is he afraid Kurt won’t like it? That’s  _silly_ , of course Kurt will like it—

“H-here we are…” They’ve stopped, and Kurt can feel cold tile beneath his bare feet, can smell something warm and sweet and clean—it smells sort of like Blaine, actually. Kurt purrs, soft and low in his throat, eyes closing as Blaine shifts the blindfold up and over his ears. His fingers press lightly into the fur, and Kurt butts up and into the touch.

Then, of course, he opens his eyes—they’re in the bathroom, which explains the tile—and right before him is the—

Kurt jerks back, right into Blaine, limbs drawing up as tightly as they can without him falling over, and he lets out a very low, threatened  _hiss_. A  _bath_. Kurt turns, planning to flee, but he forgot about Blaine in that moment and runs right into him. He clings, hands grappling against Blaine’s plain t-shirt as if perhaps he can climb over him.

“Kurt,” Blaine reprimands around the frown. “Get in the bath.”

Kurt pulls back, staring up at Blaine desperately. He doesn’t  _want_  to take a bath. He _hates_  baths. He  _hates_  water. Blaine knows this. And Blaine loves him. How could Blaine do this to him? A pathetic, whimpering noise comes out of the base of Kurt’s throat, and for a moment it seems to weaken Blaine’s resolve—but just a moment, and then he hardens against Kurt’s pouting.

“Would you really make me do this, Blaine?” Kurt asks, voice wobbly, and he paws at Blaine’s arms and shoulders, still looking for a way out. “Would you?”

Blaine looks a little reluctant again, but he shakes himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, and then levels Kurt with a look.

“Get in the bath,” he says sternly. Well… If Blaine isn’t going to give in, Kurt will just have to escape.

“No,” he replies indignantly, shrinking away from Blaine, ears flattening as he backs up—not towards the bath, but towards the counter vanity. Maybe if he can get on it, he can get a vantage point, get around Blaine…

Blaine sighs.

“You leave me no choice.”

Kurt hisses again as he moves closer, tail lashing around furiously as his ears press flat to his head. But then Blaine is scooping him up in his arms, holding him close like he used to in those beginning days when Kurt was so scared and Blaine so kind—it disarms Kurt for a moment, just a moment, and then he’s squirming, fighting at the arms holding him up and off the ground.

Curse being declawed.

He does what he never does—meows, pathetically and desperately, as if it will somehow save him from his impending  _doom_ , but Blaine purses his lips together and then sets Kurt—clothes and all—into the water.

It’s warm, and Kurt likes warm, but it’s  _wet_. It’s horribly, horrifyingly, disgustingly  _wet_. Kurt’s hair is  _wet_ , and his skin is  _wet_ , and his fur and clothes and  _everything_. He blinks, reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes with the back of his hands. Blaine  _dropped_ him in the water, just like that—he’d been gentle about it, but he’d still  _done_  it.

But Blaine’s look is gentle again, and he approaches the bath cautiously, hands raised as if to appease Kurt.

“This’ll… Go easier if you take off your clothes,” Blaine says slowly, still hesitant. Not like Kurt’s clothes are helping. They’re  _horrible_  and clingy, and it’s uncomfortable every time Kurt shifts around in the tub. But Kurt is already in the bath, and as appealing an idea as it is to fight Blaine tooth and nail (no pun intended), Kurt just wants the bath to be  _over_. He slips off his loose pants, tossing them over the side of the tub, followed by his shirt. When he’s done, Blaine is there, holding something out for Kurt.

His eyes light up as he takes the rubber mouse, fingers closing around it excitedly. It squeaks, and he grins, delighted, squeaking it and squeaking it. He looks over at Blaine, his small, sharp teeth showing in a grin.

“Love you, Blaine.”  _Squeak squeak_. Never mind the bath, or the water, or the wet. This mouse  _squeaks_. It is the best surprise  _ever_.

Blaine chuckles, pressing lightly on Kurt’s shoulders until he’s leaning back against the porcelain.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, and Kurt complies.  _Squeak squeak_. He feels Blaine’s fingers working through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and smoothing over his fur. Kurt purrs, a rumble deep in his chest, pressing back into Blaine’s touch as it works gentle and soothing through Kurt’s hair.

 _Squeak squeak_.

Blaine’s hand presses against his forehead, and then Kurt feels the steady thrum of water beating against his hair. His ears twitch at the pressure, wanting to shake off the moisture even as it hits. Blaine’s hand keeps the water and shampoo from his eyes, and Kurt’s purrs deepen and become louder at the gesture.

“Alright,” Blaine says, and Kurt blinks his eyes open, looking over at him. He’s standing, shirt flecked with water, and grabs the big, soft, terrycloth towel that Kurt likes to rub his face against because it smells  _so-so-so_  much like Blaine, it drives him crazy. Blaine offers him a hand, helping him get out of the slippery, wet tub. When Kurt does stumble, just a little bit, Blaine catches him in the towel, wrapping it around him. “Gotcha.”

Kurt purrs again, rubbing up against the soft fabric, and Blaine smiles. Kurt is perfectly capable of drying himself, but Blaine still insists on rubbing the towel up and down his arms and shoulders, leaving Kurt naked as he dries off his hair and ears with the tender massaging of his fingers.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

 _No_. But Kurt isn’t about to say that. He still hates baths.

The towel comes back down, and Kurt feels an itch at the sudden need to groom himself, all of his hair feeling criss-crossed in the wrong direction. He frowns, wiggling his shoulders, ears pressed flat as if it will somehow fix the grain of his fur.

And then Blaine laughs—Kurt, standing there in just his skin, and Blaine is  _laughing_. Kurt turns towards the mirror, slightly blurry with steam, and lets out an indignant yowl. His hands work quickly starting to groom his hair and fur back into place—he looks  _awful_.

“Oh my god,” Blaine laughs, and Kurt glares at him. “You look like a dork—”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Kurt hisses, fur bristling as Blaine teases him. He brushes it flat again with his hands.

But then Blaine’s arms are wrapping around him, warmth against the chill that’s starting to settle against Kurt’s still slightly-damp skin.

“ _Stop_ ,” Kurt hisses, pride still wounded even if Blaine is  _warm_. Blaine doesn’t listen, though, grabbing Kurt’s face and pressing a warm, popping kiss to his temple. “I hate you, Blaine,” Kurt growls, and Blaine kisses the same spot again.

“Love you, too.”


End file.
